Alone in the Dark
by oh-you-pretty-things
Summary: Post DMC. AWE spoilers.  Elizabeth Swann was in no hurry to return to her hard bed and cruel dreams, alone in the unsympathetic darkness.
1. The First Dream

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: A little tale of angst I've started…_

Rough hands were around her throat, choking her. She watched a cruel smile spread coldly across his usually warm features. His eyes were murderous.

"How can I trust you?" he whispered fiercely into her ear as she felt the life drain from her body. "How can I believe in you?"

Elizabeth awoke with a start, sweat pouring off her body. Her breath came in rapid pants and her eyes skimmed the dark room in terror. The creaking of wet wood against fierce waves and the soft snoring of other crew members was all that she could hear. She was terrified, but forced herself to pull her eyes to where he lay. When she did, she was startled to find that he was watching her with wide, concerned eyes. She hadn't spoken to him about _the kiss_ and she wasn't sure if it was only her doing or his as well, but they were hardly speaking at all.

Her dream echoed in her mind and although his eyes were warm now, she couldn't help but remember the anger in the imaginary pair. Without a word, she flung off her blankets and ran to the deck. He would follow her, she knew. She didn't deserve his concern. She had betrayed their friend and led him to his imminent death. Essentially, she was a murderer. It had seemed so simple to carry out, so easy to complete. Distract him with his lust – with _her_ lust. That is why she didn't deserve Will. _She_ had wanted that kiss as much as Jack had. Curiosity had gotten the better of her and she had _wanted _to taste it. She'd wanted to know a pirate.

Elizabeth was never one for propriety, but she felt its pang whenever she looked at Will. She was engaged to marry him! He had his claim on her, rightfully! And, she wanted him to have it. She loved him and she always had, so _why_, then had she looked to Jack? Why, while Will suffered for her, had she fantasized of kissing the pirate? Why?

He was there, standing behind her in silent contemplation, waiting for something – anything. She couldn't give it to him.

"Elizabeth." Her heart sped as it always did when he spoke her name. "Are you alright? You were tossing and turning in your sleep."

Elizabeth couldn't look at him, she couldn't turn to him; she didn't deserve it.

"Bad dream," she whispered, her voice carried in the wind.

He approached her and sat beside her, looking out across the black ocean. "Can I help?"

Elizabeth looked at him finally, drinking in his rugged appearance: dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep, a shadow of stubble on his unshaven chin. He seemed to have grown sterner throughout this journey, a jaded version of the idealist he once was. She supposed she wasn't any better. When was the last time she'd worn a dress, or behaved as a lady? She looked away, ashamed. Oh, how she wanted to hide in his arms! Oh, how she wanted to hear his soothing words in her ear! But, she knew she didn't deserve it. She shook her head.

"I…," she hesitated, wondering what to say. "I just want to get Jack back."

Will was staring at her and it was more than she could bear. "Elizabeth," he started, so very softly. "If you…"

"No," she said sharply. "It's fine, Will. I just," she paused, knowing this would likely hurt him, "Need to be alone."

Either he'd become quite talented at hiding his emotions, or he just didn't care. He rose without a word and started to leave. Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to force the tears she knew she should shed. She couldn't. She simply couldn't cry. She didn't believe that she deserved the luxury of crying. She glanced back quickly to see if he was still there and sighed audibly, painfully when she realized that he wasn't. Elizabeth waited awhile before returning to her uncomfortable little cot. She was in no hurry to return to her hard bed and cruel dreams, alone in the unsympathetic darkness.


	2. The Second Nightmare

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Surprisingly, I have nothing to say. :P_

She stood at the hull of the ship, the sun beating down, hot against her neck. Her hair was swept up neatly, her bonnet carefully in place. The gown she wore was lovely, albeit quite heavy. It was white, the very picture of classic innocence. He approached from behind, his moist breath against her skin a welcome distraction from the heat of the sun. He pressed his lips in the hollow where her neck met her shoulder, the coarseness of the tiny hairs on his chin sending chills down her spine. He pressed his body against her back, the hard heat of him locking her against the hull. She leaned into him, tilting her neck to allow him better access. Still trailing kisses along her neck, teasing her earlobe with his hair, he wrapped his arms around her.

A smile came to her lips, warm and easy. She closed her eyes, relaxing against him, basking in his love. When she opened them again she saw a flash of reflected light and felt something against her throat. Something cold, metallic…lethal. She looked down to see his father's dagger pressed against her skin, tightening it to the point of tearing.

"Why? Why, when I gave you everything?" his voice was raw, breaking with emotion. "I live and die for you, Elizabeth."

The blade cut deep and Elizabeth's eyes flew open. She blinked realizing that she was in the crew's quarters; again the only sounds she heard were waves and snores. She closed her eyes and willed herself to breathe slowly. She looked over to see Will's back turned to her. He was asleep, presumably. Quietly, she stole away to the deck. A cold, humid breeze washed against her face and she embraced it. She stood at the hull and stared at the whitecaps lapping against the side of the ship, a stark contrast to the black ocean.

Elizabeth jumped as someone glided up silently beside her.

"Tia," she gasped, clutching at her chest and closing her eyes in relief.

"Dark times to be alone," Tia said, watching the whitecaps alongside Elizabeth.

Elizabeth said nothing. What could she say? She'd created the dark times.

"Everything will be fine once Jack is back," she said confidently, at last.

Tia turned to her, a strangely knowing smile upon her lips. "Will it now?"

Elizabeth glanced at her with unsure eyes. "It has to be."

Tia Dalma merely huffed in dark amusement. "Why don't ya seek comfort with he who loves you?"

"I…," Elizabeth hesitated. Should she tell Tia, a woman she barely knew? No. She straightened her back. "It isn't his burden to bear," she whispered strongly.

"Dere's no burden dat any one person can bear alone."

"It was only a dream."

"Dream or nightmare?" The question was rhetorical. Tia had never expected an answer from Elizabeth. Tia smiled widely, her rotten teeth fully visible in the moonlight. "Nightmare or truth?"

Elizabeth's face seemed to fall and her heart sped up. Did she know her dreams? That was impossible, wasn't it?

"It was only a dream," Elizabeth repeated clearly.

Tia said nothing and glanced over her shoulder. She turned back to Elizabeth and gave her a broad, knowing smile before disappearing. Elizabeth followed her line of vision to find Will, leaning against the mast, watching her with his quiet intensity. He approached her cautiously and the care of his movements made her heart ache.

"A dream again?" he asked, leaning against the banister of the hull. Elizabeth nodded. Will watched her expectantly, allowing her to make the next move.

"You needn't worry, Will," she said, carefully averting her eyes from his.

"Elizabeth," the force of his tone drawing her eyes to his. "Allow me to decide what I do and do not need to worry about."

Elizabeth said nothing again. She looked at her hands, once pale and pristine, now brown and weathered.

"I do need to worry about you," Will said softly, driving the spike through her heart.

Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes stormy with confusion. He loved her so unconditionally. Had he ever strayed? Had he ever even thought of straying? She knew the answer, of course. She'd always known the answer. Desperately she tried not to admit it to herself, but it broke through in a cold voice from the back of her mind. _His_ cold voice. _No. No. No. No. I love you, Elizabeth. I need no other, Elizabeth. Be my wife, Elizabeth. I live and die for you, Elizabeth. Why, Elizabeth? WHY?_

Elizabeth gasped for air and closed her eyes, longing for the tears that would not come.

"Elizabeth," Will said, raising his hand to touch her shoulder in concern. She flinched away from his hand and his tormented expression was not lost on her. She stared into his eyes, warm pools of coffee seeking refuge in her, seeking her love. She broke contact and turned in a rush. She needed to be somewhere, anywhere, other than here. But, he wouldn't let her. His hand circled around her wrist. She stopped, but she didn't turn.

"It's Jack, isn't it?" he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

A thought crossed her mind. A frantic, desperate thought – and suddenly she felt she could tell him everything. Suddenly, she felt that he would understand and shelter her. She turned.

"Yes. Yes, it's Jack!" she exclaimed, her voice tense and ragged. The change happened then. The lights went out in those coffee brown orbs, the warmth turned to ice, the hope died. He dropped her wrist and turned from her. Facing the black night sky he spoke crisply and evenly, devoid of emotion, his voice an echo of her dreams.

"We'll find him, Elizabeth. And, we will bring him back. I swear it."

Her heart seemed to stop. She couldn't tell him. There was no way. She'd heard his determination, his oath. He was off to save his friend who he believed had died willingly to save them all. Will didn't need to carry her burden. Tia Dalma was wrong. There was _one_ burden that must be carried alone and it was hers to carry. There was nothing to say to Will, she realized as she stared at his broad shoulders, outlined in the moonlight against the horizon. Without a word, she returned to her hard bed, wishing that the dreams would not wake her again.


	3. The Third Trance

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN:I was in a bad mood today. Perfect for writing angst. ;)_

He was kissing her with wild abandon, like the world would fall down around them; as though a break between them would lead to their ultimate destruction. When was the last time he kissed her like that? When was the first? His hand slid from its nestled place between her shoulder blades down to the delicious curve of her back, hovering tortuously above her buttocks. His tongue was in her mouth, searching with unbridled passion. Really, when was the last time he'd kissed her like that?

She slid her hand up his back, feeling his broad muscles beneath her palm. Up, up, up; tangling through the tendrils of hair that teased the tops of his shoulder blades. When was the last time she'd kissed him like this? Her fingers twisted through long pieces of rough hair and she suddenly remembered.

Her eyes flew open and she knew. He'd _never_ kissed her like that before. She looked down and saw that she was in her white dress again, only the neckline plummeted far lower than she remembered and the bodice was far tighter than it needed to be. Her eyes met her partner's, but she could say nothing.

"Pirate," he whispered. She looked down and saw that his hand was locked to the mast – her doing. Tears stung the corners of her eyes and she looked up into his face again.

"I _am_ sorry," she cried. Yet, his kohl-rimmed eyes looked past her. She followed their line to meet the eyes of another man.

"Will," she said with a start. His face was blank, eyes hard, stance aggressive. She started to run to him and without moving a muscle, without so much as changing his facial expression, he hissed a word that stopped her in her tracks. The word itself would mean nothing to her if it hadn't been from his mouth, on his lips, in his voice…

"Whore."

He raised his chin as though daring her to deny it. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. But, she couldn't speak and he turned his back on her, leaving her alone with the man she'd killed. The Kraken appeared in deadly slow motion and her companion merely glanced at it before turning back to her.

"You're not sorry," he said softly, the Kraken almost upon them both. "For any of it."

Elizabeth forced herself to waking. This dream had been worse than the others. She never would have thought that one word would wound her so much; that one statement would be so true. She gazed, automatically, to where he lay finding his cot uncharacteristically empty. Elizabeth finally felt that now was the time to tell him. Now was the time to come clean. Maybe then the dreams would stop. Then again, maybe he wouldn't want anything to do with her anymore. Elizabeth took a deep breath and made her way above. Either way, she was ready to face the consequences.

It was dark still and Elizabeth scanned the deck in vain. She heard voices, hushed tones, coming from the Captain's quarters. She followed the sound and found a dim light coming from the very same place. Through a crack in the door Elizabeth could see Will illuminated by the orange glow of the candlelight. He was speaking with Barbossa and his expression was grave.

"I'll likely have the best chance…alone," Will said thoughtfully. Barbossa nodded once.

"And if I fail?"

"We'll keep to the code."

"Good. And, Elizabeth?"

"I'll keep her close to me. Sao Feng has a weakness for beautiful women," Barbossa said with a harsh laugh.

Will frowned, but said nothing. He turned his head, his expression unreadable. Elizabeth tried to back away from the door, but she was far too slow. His eyes caught her through the crack.

"Elizabeth," he said in surprise. Barbossa strode to the door and yanked it open.

"Miss Swann," he said, leering at her suspiciously. He stole a glance at Will whose expression had not changed.

"What are you talking about? I heard my name."

"By sunrise, we will be in Singapore," Barbossa said, striding back to his map on the table. Elizabeth followed him silently, her eyes on Will.

"And?" she asked, agitated that he had not continued. Will looked at the map intently, distinctly avoiding eye contact with her. Barbossa merely glared at her. Indignation coursed through her very being. She looked from one man to the other.

"If I'm involved…," she started, her tone strong and angry.

"You're not involved yet," Will spat in clipped tones. Simultaneously, he slammed his dagger into the table eliciting a jump from Elizabeth and curious gaze from Barbossa. Will turned his furious gaze upon Elizabeth. Although the rest of that expression seemed to melt from his face as he looked at her, his eyes remained hard.

"Don't worry, Elizabeth," he said softly. "We'll get Jack back."

The bitter edge in his voice was not lost on her and her shock at his reaction was so great that she could say nothing. This wasn't how the night was supposed to have gone. Will gathered up a smaller map, his coat, and fastened his sword around his waist. He pushed past Elizabeth without another word.

Elizabeth looked to Barbossa. "Where is he going?"

Barbossa shrugged in reply. She glared at him before turning and running after Will.

"Where are you going?" she asked to his back. He was lowering a boat, planning to leave without saying goodbye to her, without consulting her. Then again, who was she to ask for consultation? Will paused, his back to her.

"I'm going on ahead," he said quietly.

"Why?" Elizabeth asked, exasperated. She forced herself in front of him, compelling him to look at her. He swallowed when she appeared and tried very hard not to see her at all. Suddenly, the knot he was untying had become very interesting.

"To get the charts we need to find Jack." The emphasis he placed on the last word was acrid, as though it left a bad taste in his mouth just to utter it.

"Why can't we all get them," she asked. "Together?"

"Because I have to _steal_ them, Elizabeth," he hissed, his eyes boring into hers.

"Oh," Elizabeth said, her mind working rapidly. He would be gone soon, there was no time to tell him now. No time to make peace. "Why you?"

"It's dangerous. I'll have a better chance of succeeding if I'm alone."

"That didn't answer my question, Will."

Will regarded her for a moment, his eyes growing sad in the smallest way before hardening over once more. He started to climb down the side of the ship, averting his eyes from hers again.

"Because I have nothing to lose," he answered in the barest whisper.

Elizabeth felt as though she had been struck. He had nothing to lose? What about her? What about them? Elizabeth choked back her questions. If that was the way he felt, then there was no stopping him. She reached out and placed her hand on his before he disappeared over the side of the ship.

"Will," she said, her long hair dangling around her face as she hung her head over the side. "Be careful."

She stood for a long time staring at the black ocean where Will's little boat had been. There was no way she was going back to her bed tonight. Her reality had just become as bad as her dreams.


	4. The Fourth Dimension

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

Elizabeth's eyes were wide and dry, despite the overwhelming amount of steam in the bath house. She couldn't look away; she knew it must seem obvious to Sao Feng, but she couldn't look away. She kept flinching in an attempt to wake herself, but she realized with horror, that this was no nightmare. The whole time they had been talking, the whole time she'd been threatening Sao Feng with her scarce bravado, he had been under water. The ramifications of this simple fact shot fear straight through her and she couldn't look away. He could have drowned because of her need to attempt to intimidate. It was harder for her, being female – a princess amongst thieves - to assert herself with these men. She was always seeking new ways to daunt her newfound peers and now she cursed herself for this little display.

Will was drawing in breaths in rapid succession, as though just waiting for the next moment when he would dunked below the surface of the water again. He was gaunt, exhausted and…furious. Elizabeth could see the past struggles he'd had with these men by the weakness in his limbs, the sagging of his face, the lacerations in his skin. How long had he been held captive? How long had they been torturing him? Why was he always suffering for her mistakes?

This wasn't a dream and she couldn't tear her eyes away from him, even though she knew she should. Vaguely, she heard Sao Feng ask if they knew his face. Elizabeth shook her head numbly, although she was certain her expression said all the things that her mind was currently screaming. _Yes! Yes, I know his face! I've known it for years and years. I've known his smile and the way his eyes crinkle in the corners ever so slightly. I've known this face in brighter times, when his eyes showed fearless adoration and endless devotion. I've known this face in darker times, when anger and sorrow reigned supreme. I've known this face when all seemed to be lost _except _for this face. This face, this face I love so much, I've never been more terrified of it before this moment._

In the next instant, Sao Feng was upon Will, dagger in hand threatening to cut the face that she so adored. She couldn't help it, reflexes had taken over and her hands flew to her mouth to cover her girlish gasp. All the intimidation factors she had employed, all the careful steps she had taken to remove her femininity, had been ignored and destroyed in that one simple action and she found that she didn't care. Will had been threatened and he had taken far more than his share of torment already. Without him, however tense the air between them had become, she would fall to pieces. She knew it even if he didn't, and her gasp had saved his life. Elizabeth felt only relief…until she realized that her silly, little gasp had put the three of them in even greater danger.

It all happened so quickly – the swords were in her hands and she was fighting for her life. Whether it be Sao Feng's gang of miscreants or, worse yet, Beckett's army of well-paid mercenaries, she cut them down without a second thought. Her heart leapt when she saw that Will was free once more and she tossed him a blade. She wished that she could fall back now and simply watch, as she had so long ago when times were simpler, before Jack Sparrow ever invaded their pristine lives. There was no time to watch, however, and she noted that no matter how much of a mess Jack Sparrow had made of their simple lives, he had, in fact, facilitated their pending union. If, indeed, there was a union still pending.

Through all the commotion and madness that had ensued in the disaster that had once been Sao Feng's bath house, they had all three somehow made it out alive…for now. Elizabeth felt rough, but familiar, fingers pressing gently into her arm, steering her clear of impending danger. Her heart sped at a wild, adrenaline-induced pace and a thrill raced through her. She wouldn't die here; those fingers and that touch were what she lived for. It had been so long since there had been any physical contact between them, she hadn't felt herself worthy. She still didn't. But, oh, how she longed for that touch again.

They were separated once more, but her arm burned where he had held her, the heat of his body clinging to her very soul. She fought and fought and fought until finally, they met again. Will's face was triumphant as he declared that not only had he managed to get the charts, but he had also procured them a ship and crew. A sudden wave of unease washed over Elizabeth. He was worn and quite pleased with himself, but there was something else…something deeper. Something _darker_. It was in this moment that she realized something rather important: Will Turner was dead. Yes, he was standing there, living and breathing as he had always been, but something essential had died within him. She stared at him and it took him a moment to realize it, but when he did, his face came near to collapsing before he looked away. Maybe it wasn't dead yet, but it was certainly dying.


	5. The Fifth Waking Nightmare

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Uhg, I'm not liking this one. And, I had such high hopes for it. Oh well. Maximum angst below._

For once, Elizabeth found that she could not sleep – not because of her nightmares, but because of her reality. She knew Will Turner in ways that others did not and something was terribly wrong with him. Unfortunately, now that they were well on their way to World's End, all Elizabeth found she could think about was a set of dark eyes on another man. Jack. She lay in bed a little longer, remembering their last conversation. Jack's last conversation.

_I'm not sorry,_ she had hissed with as little remorse as possible. Unfortunately, quite a bit of remorse had been possible. And, then he'd looked at her, this sort of amused realization in his black eyes. He had smiled slightly before releasing that last word: _Pirate._ Had there been any man less deserving and yet so deserving of his fate? Jack Sparrow was a trickster who often used Will to his own ends, and yet here Will was, noble as ever, on a quest to save him. Even in death Jack could force Will into life-threatening situations.

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, her mind tormented by both men. Jack, for understanding her actions and dying without grovelling, which had made her actions a hundred fold worse; and, Will for loving her so unconditionally when she did not deserve his compassion. And, then there was that _something_ that she had seen in Will as of late. His actions were risky, riskier than he'd ever hazarded before. And his words: _Because I have nothing to lose._ Elizabeth wished that she could think of him and only him right now; that she could find out what he had meant, but she couldn't. Not now. Maybe not ever, if her downward spiral were to continue.

She rolled onto her side, her eyes seeking the comfort of his lithe form stretched across his small cot. He was awake, staring at the ceiling, his face contorted by deep concentration. As though he could feel her eyes upon him, he turned his head to look at her. His eyes, normally puddles of warmth, were hard as rocks. He looked right through her and she shivered internally before throwing her thin blanket to the side and running to the deck, again. Why must she avoid that which must not be avoided? There were things that needed to be said and yet all she could think of were words already spoken. Nothing to lose? Did he know? Had he written her off so soon? Hot tears stung her eyes and she closed them, slowing her breathing to something more manageable. She couldn't think about this now. She decided to turn all her attention towards Jack, the man she had condemned to death.

Soft footsteps fell behind her. Elizabeth did not need to turn to know whose they were.

"How long do we continue not talking?" he asked softly.

Elizabeth couldn't look at him, couldn't risk losing sight of the goal. "Once we rescue Jack, everything will be fine."

There was a moment of silence and a cool breeze caught her hair knowingly.

"Once we rescue Jack."

The words were uttered sharply and quietly. Elizabeth turned finally, catching sight of Will's face, gone cold once again. It was more than she could bear and she fled below this time. It was a ridiculous circular chase the two of them were on. Elizabeth knew that no matter where she ran to, he would always be there, watching her back. Miserable and feeling the bitter effects of guilt in so many ways, she pulled her threadbare blanket back over her head and nuzzled into her hard bed. Again, sleep would not find her.

Time stretched onwards with agonizing slowness and at long last she heard Will's quiet, timed steps on the damp floorboards. It was only when she heard the soft rustling of clothing being shifted that she realized he had not yet lain down. She turned and pulled a tattered corner of her blanket from her face to investigate whatever it was he was doing. As she did so, she saw the stark nakedness of his back to her. She'd never seen it without at least the thin cover of a shirt. A year ago, perhaps, had matters gone differently, she would have been able to run her fingers over his skin and feel the tightness of his muscles beneath her hand. A year ago, had none of this happened, she would have deserved to do so.

Unconsciously, Elizabeth had allowed the blanket to fall away completely, giving her an unobscured view of his back. Her keen eyes fell upon that which should not have been on the back of a blacksmith and she moved from her laying position automatically. She was unstoppable, horror filling her very being. A weather-worn, brown finger traced a deep scar tentatively. Elizabeth felt Will tense under her gentle touch. He turned his head in surprise, only now realizing that she was behind him.

"I thought you were asleep."

Elizabeth shook her head and stared at his back. "I…these are old," she said incredulously.

Will turned his head again, facing forward once more. "Yes."

How had he not told her about this? When had it happened? Who had done it to him? Her eyes flew to the back of his head, pain and rage coursing throughout her body. Will had suffered at the hands of someone and she wanted revenge.

"Who? Who did this to you?" Her voice breathless without betraying the deep anger that she felt. Elizabeth started as Will released a bitter chuckle.

"_Who_ is not really important, Elizabeth."

"It is!" she insisted, her voice finally revealing her anger. Will spun at the sound of the emotion and stared at her with burning eyes.

"Is it? What about when? What about how?" His eyes had that horrid hardness to them again, but they melted suddenly in sadness. His voice was low, a mere whisper, and yet it carried with it the heartbreak of the man, "What about for whom?"

Tears fell freely down her cheeks now and Will merely watched her with detached sorrow. His hand came up slowly, hovering near her cheek. Elizabeth could feel the heat from his skin and she closed her eyes, willing the contact. But, it never came. When she opened her eyes again, Will's back was to her, a black shirt hiding the scars that had so offended her. He crawled into his bed and stared at the ceiling while Elizabeth stood planted firmly between their beds. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. It was the first time Will had ever denied her anything and it was the most important thing she'd ever asked for. It had been enough to break her, enough to let her know that no matter who gave him those scars, the person most responsible was none other than herself.

Will spoke clearly, his eyes hardened again. "That which does not kill us makes us stronger."

With that, he rolled onto his side, barring Elizabeth viewing access of anything beyond his back. Elizabeth did not know how long she stood over him, staring at his back and remembering the old, reddened scars beneath his shirt. No, sleep would not find her that night, nor would it for many nights after that.


	6. The Sixth Sensation

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters or dialogue associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Sorry for the huge delay in posting this. I think I may have thrown up all my writing inspirations when I had the flu. :S Anyway, it's coming back to me slowly. I've been a little (okay, more than a little) depressed as of late and, uh, this is the result. I apologize for the shortness, but it's all I got right now._

She stood, silent and unmoving, at the front of the ship, waiting for those hands to encircle her throat, waiting for the blade to cut deep. She'd been exposed by the very man she'd murdered. To her great surprise, no one had flogged her or thrown her from the ship just yet. Jack was taking great lengths to avoid being near her, and she couldn't really say that she blamed him. As though on cue, Jack appeared on deck. Elizabeth caught one look at him, lingering only for a moment before fleeing below deck.

There she sat, motionless and unseeing, on the short set of stairs leading to the cargo hold. She wasn't quite able to bring herself to go all the way down; despite her time at sea and proving that she was just as much a man as any of the crew, she was still very much afraid of rats. Elizabeth sighed pitiably and stared straight ahead thinking, or rather not thinking about Jack and his cautious, slightly mad demeanour. He'd always been a bit off, but it seemed now that he had spent nearly a year in Davy Jones' locker he was even more affected.

Soft footsteps fell in behind her, but she failed to turn her head, mistaking the sound for the rats she so despised. A flash of deep red swept by and at long last Elizabeth's head twitched to catch the sight of Will approaching.

"You left Jack to the Kraken," he stated rather than asked. He was her judge and jury and she'd just been found guilty.

"He's rescued now, it's done with," she replied non-committally, as though the action of rescuing him simply negated the original sin. Her mind argued with her immediately, reminding her that only seconds ago she had noted that Jack had not returned from the dead unscathed.

Will turned from her, but she was unable to discern his expression. Had he turned away because he was disgusted with her? Because he couldn't believe that she had done something so callously? Finally, unable to come to terms with his thinking ill of her, she rose from her stair.

"Will, I had no choice!" she cried defensively to his back. The same back that was covered with scars he bore for her.

The fact that he did not turn immediately, did not run to her side and hold her, did nothing to ease her guilt, proved to her that she really had done irreparable damage to their relationship.

"You chose not to tell me," he replied, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

"I couldn't!" she called to him desperately. Her mind had already justified not confiding in Will. She had already convinced herself that she had been doing Will a favour by not telling him, by not forcing him to hold onto her guilt.

"It wasn't your burden to bear," she finished, matter-of-factly.

At this, Will did turn. His face was blank, at first, merely confrontational. "But I did bear it didn't I?" His face seemed to melt into that awful sadness of his as he moved closer to her. "I just didn't know what it was."

His eyes searched hers and Elizabeth's mind reeled. All the distance that had come between them over the past few months, all the animosity she had thought she'd felt from him, all her nightmares came to light. It seemed as though everything came crashing forward into her as Will looked at her, leaning against the post just to prevent their touching.

"I thought," he started, but Elizabeth did not need him to finish – she already knew what he was about to say.

"You thought I loved him."

Part of her was completely disgusted both by Will's lack of faith and by her own actions. The whole situation was suddenly extremely revolting. Perhaps they were well-suited after all: he would never believe a word out of her mouth and she would betray him to kill other men. She turned to leave. How could she face him now? How could he face her? Apparently, rather easily. He gripped her shoulder and backed her into the pole that she had been lingering around.

Finally, when her back hit the pole with more force than she had expected, her eyes instinctively fell to Will's lips and grazed back up to his eyes. She found that he had also traced her face visually and thought that he might kiss her. Elizabeth was surprised to find that she would have welcomed physical contact between them; it might have given them both some release from the horrid tension between them. Darkly aroused, Elizabeth considered the current situation and all its disgusting truths. Why not culminate it all right here, right now? Instead, Will asked her a question.

"If you make your decisions alone, how can I trust you?"

A bitter smile rose to her lips now. "You can't."

Normally, she would have fled below deck to escape Will, but this was no longer an option. Instead, she ran as fast as she could up the stairs. She was sickened by the current state of their relationship. A year ago, they were blissful and happily unaware of the ugliness that could exist between them. Tears stun her eyes in earnest as she ran past Jack to the front of the ship. Without any pretence or shame, the contents of Elizabeth's stomach burst forth from her mouth into the black ocean below. Dizzy and miserable, she slumped against the banister, crying into her hands. So lost was she in her tears that she didn't even hear Tia Dalma approach.

In a low, mocking tone she repeated the words that she had once spoken to Will, unbeknownst to Elizabeth: "For what we want most, there is a cost must be paid in the end."


	7. The Seventh Speculation

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters or dialogue associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Sorry for the delay. I applied for a writing program and I needed to send a fifteen page sample of my original work, so needless to say, I was a little too busy to dedicate time to my fanfiction. I think there may be one more chapter and possibly an epilogue to this, and then I'm out!! For anyone reading At Least Once More, Miss Swann, I will be writing more in the near future! Please be patient! I am deeply involved in a modern AU that I adore writing at the moment. I shan't post that until it's done to avoid angry readers. ;) _

So much had happened and it was only now, after she had been named Pirate King and she was leading many men and the occasional woman to their near imminent death, that she really thought of Will. The last time she'd seen him, she'd been angry with him. Angry with his betrayal, angry with his choice not to tell her, and angry with his use of her words against her. In a fit of petulant anger, she had agreed to go with Sao Feng, but to what end? Once she had been on his ship, she realized exactly what the Chinese Pirate Lord had wanted from her, and despite her anger, there was only one man who would ever have it. His name was certainly not Sao Feng. Elizabeth found it ironic that she had not found the time to even think of this man until now.

Where was he? Elizabeth believed that Jack knew, but if he did, he certainly wasn't divulging. But, there was no time to think about that now. War was upon them. If she survived she would worry about it then, but right now – this was bigger than her and Will. A ship appeared on the horizon and everyone around her was caught up in their triumph. One ship? It didn't seem right to Elizabeth. Cutler Beckett was not that foolish, was he? And, then, there they were: a whole armada of ships, more than there were pirate ships, that was for certain. Everyone on the Pearl turned to Jack.

"Parlay," he offered, weakly.

"I'm going," Elizabeth said immediately. "You too, Jack. And, Barbossa."

"Me too!" Pintel called behind her.

Elizabeth turned with lethal speed. "No one besides us."

Pintel shrunk at her words. "Yes your majesty."

The three of them rowed to a small island of sand nearby after catching sight of another set of three making their way from the armada. Elizabeth recognized the stocky form of Lord Cutler Beckett and felt the heat of rage well up within her. He had ruined her wedding day, ruined her life. And now she hadn't a clue where Will was and it occurred to her that he may have fallen into the hands of that ruthless, wretched, tiny man. As they made their way across the patch of sand, Elizabeth could easily make out another member of the party. Davy Jones was not a figure one could easily mistake. The third figure was still eluding her. He was not dressed in military garb, in fact he rather looked like a pirate. But, why would a pirate choose the side of the material world? It wasn't until she was even closer that she realized that the third member of the party was Will.

The exchange was quick and crisp, and Elizabeth had decided to sacrifice Jack once again, this time for Will and not for herself. She didn't regret the exchange for she knew, based on the way Cutler Beckett looked at her, that he would kill Will at the drop of a hat. Jack had a better chance of talking himself off the ship and out of death than Will would ever had. Although there was a side of Will that Elizabeth had not seen before, she knew that side was not as strong as his moral base. Once they were back on the ship, Elizabeth turned to Will before anyone else had a chance to drag her off.

"Will, I want you to know that I'm sorry," she said, making sure she had his full attention. "For everything."

Will leaned in as though to kiss her. "I'm not sorry for any of it."

For the first time in over a year, Elizabeth felt like it was right between them. She forgot the war, forgot all the tension. She only longed for Will's arms around her, his lips on hers. But, reality is cruel. Barbossa was attempting to free Calypso. As Tia Dalma writhed and fought against her binding, Will spoke to her and incited a fury that Elizabeth had never imagined. Hell hath no fury like a goddess scorned. And, then it was over.

Moments later The Flying Dutchman surfaced before them and Elizabeth sent them straight into the fight. She had never delivered a speech like that in all her life, but she didn't doubt her words. Not now. Not that after everything, Will was back by her side in all ways. Colours hoisted and maelstrom ahead, Elizabeth Swann was off to battle and for the first time in her life, it wasn't with herself.


	8. The Eighth Emotion

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters or dialogue associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

_AN: Alright, I'm done with this. I won't write an epilogue after all, I think._

Her sword was slashing, cutting, _killing_ with unending precision, but Elizabeth could only think of one word: married. It was a far cry from china tea cups and a golden gown, but it had been perfect. She had finally married Will Turner, the boy she'd been in love with since the first day he floated by her ship. The boy she'd seen watching her from afar with sad, brown eyes. The boy who'd freed a pirate solely to save her from another. The man who stole her heart and never gave it back. _Married._ Forgiven for all her sins because his love is larger than that, because he sees above all that had happened.

She turned and caught sight of him fighting aboard the Dutchman. There was no time to lose, for better or worse she would follow him wherever he went. With one last look to Gibbs, she swung across and found her self face-to-face with Davy Jones himself. She knew immediately that she was no match for him, but at least she'd die trying. And dead was exactly how she felt when he'd hit her hard across the face with his prickly claw. When she awoke from her brief bout of unconsciousness, she was faced with the slow and steady approach of Davy Jones himself. That is, until a sword came swiftly through his chest. It gave him pause and changed his focus.

_Will_! Rescuing her again, without any pomp or circumstance. He was simply there, doing what he could to protect her. They exchanged a look; hers of gratitude and his of concern. The problem really lay with Davy Jones, who was a cruel and heartless individual.

The whole situation occurred in both sickening speed and unbearable slowness. One minute, Will was safe and very much alive, and the next he was struggling for his life with the sword he had fashioned himself sticking out of his chest. Time stood still in that moment and every happy moment she had ever had with Will came flashing forward: the time she slipped on Main Street when she was fifteen and he had caught her immediately; the Merriweather Ball, when she'd watched him practice fencing without his knowledge; the time he'd risen out of the water like a spectre following the explosion of the Interceptor and saved her from an unpleasant possibility; the day he'd rescued Jack from hanging and kissed her at the Fort; the first time he'd proposed to her, bearing bright orange flowers and hopeful eyes. And then it all crashed forward with too much speed.

She was by his side, insisting that he stay with her, that he look at her. She was losing him, she could tell for he was growing colder and paler against her warm, brown hands. And he was all but gone when Jack wrenched her away, screaming and crying. Jack's arms around her weren't enough, not nearly enough and she regretted every hard word she'd ever said to Will, everything she'd ever done against him. The armada was still waiting beyond the maelstrom, and with the Dutchman having been consumed by the sea along with her one true love, Elizabeth welcomed death. Apparently so did Jack as he ordered the ship to head onwards. She watched Jack with nothing more than numb, idle curiosity as to where his madness had taken him now. It was then that she caught sight of the Dutchman rising from the water.

The crew was no longer horrific and its Captain… Her heart leapt and for a moment she thought she was dreaming. For there was no escaping death for those already dead. But, he wasn't dead…or was he? Did it really matter? No, no it did not. The next series of events: the explosion of Beckett's ship, the triumph of the pirates, all paled in comparison to Elizabeth boarding her row boat and meeting Will on the beach. He was real and tangible, and she drag her fingers through his wet hair, she could push her palm against his chest and feel him warm beneath it, she could wrap herself around him and lose herself in his mouth. Lose herself completely with him. Maddening and frantic; overwhelming and perfect. It wasn't how she'd pictured it, on a four-poster bed with crisp, white linen, but rather on the soft, white sand on a forgotten island. It didn't really matter because for one time, and one time only, she could lie in his arms and pretend that everything was perfect. For once, she wasn't alone in the dark.


End file.
